


The Lost Leaf

by Lawlly



Category: Les Schtroumpfs | The Smurfs, Trolls (2016), Trolls: The Beat Goes On (Cartoon)
Genre: Adventure, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Blue Boys Forever, Branch POV, Café, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Drama, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Hefty POV, Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Original Character(s), Romance, Sexual Content, Singing, Slam Poetry, Trolls, Trolls/Smurfs, more tags as chapters progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2020-06-26 15:51:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19771480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lawlly/pseuds/Lawlly
Summary: Bored with life and suffering from infatuation, Hefty comes to regret wearing his heart on his sleeve all the time. The emotional pain is too much to handle and Hefty's fellow Smurf leads him to somewhere new, somewhere absolutely magical, and he finds a long-haired creature that could be the answer to what he needs. Branch is someone he'd never expected to meet and unlocking the potential of their friendship becomes his goal - friendship, however, is not what the troll has in mind.- - - - -The Lost Leaf is a music/poetry bar and cafe that is accessed by numerous magical and mythical creatures. For the trolls, this story takes place after the movie and when Branch restores his colors and lives in harmony with the rest of the village. Trolls and Smurfs world is separated by the Forbidden Forest wall.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All songs posted in the end notes. :) Please enjoy my new fic.

In a mystical world ruled by magic, anything could happen, right? It wasn't difficult to believe 'happily ever after' existed when you were surrounded by endless smiles and adventures that strengthened your heart. But that's precisely what Hefty Smurf was looking for - something to make his heart stronger… because unlike the rest of him, it was frail and weak. 

Each day, the sun set in the same way. No matter what obstacles Hefty and his Smurf village came across, they always seemed to do what was right and escape home by the skin of their teeth. The Smurfs were a hardy bunch that were small in stature, but big on family. They laughed through their dangers and were joyous when picking fresh Smurfberries from the private grove. Among all this happiness, Hefty couldn't be. He had one problem that no one could solve but himself; one which forced him to believe that he couldn't live happily ever after.

He was utterly obsessed with his best friend, Smurfette.

As the only female Smurf, of course the beautiful blonde gained a lot of attention. Hefty wasn't a practical sheep among the herd, but he was trying a difficult battle to not be swept up like his brothers. It was impossible, let's be real. There were many, many Smurfs that befriended the lovely Smurfette, showering her with gifts and fighting in line to make her laugh. Her smile was brighter than any sun and it melted their hearts. You would be a fool to not love her.

Refusing to take part and ruin his precious friendship, Hefty trained hard, day in and day out, to live up to his given name. For years, he pushed his muscles beyond their breaking point to forget about his infatuation with Smurfette. He figured that the pain in his body could mask the pain of rejection. Their day to day life remained normal and they got along precisely how Hefty expected them to. She had no clue about his feelings for her and they were manageable with the right workout routine. Recently, however, it just wasn't enough. 

On another bright, boring day, Hefty found himself sitting next to Grouchy Smurf on his wooden bench in the middle of the village square. They both had their arms folded and were frowning in silence, though Hefty a little more depressed than normal. He found that he could actually hide himself from Smurfette for most of the day by sitting here with Grouchy, blending in the middle of the hustle and bustle. It took a lot of persuading and some forced repetitive action, but over time the grumpy Smurf accepted his presence and they slipped wordlessly into each other's routine. So for the past month, Hefty took advantage of the emotional relief and spent some more time with the Smurf who disliked pretty much everything.

"Hey, Grouchy! Hey, Hefty!" The passing Smurfs called out to them in their afternoon greeting and Grouchy grunted in response, tipping his white hat a little more forward over his brows to look more menacing. 

Sighing and leaning back over the bench, Hefty rubbed his hand around his tired neck. Just another empty day with the same routine… He didn’t know what to do with himself. There was nothing on the agenda and no chores to finish. It might be something good if Gargamel actually decided to pull a shenanigan or two.

"Hmph," Grouchy huffed in his direction, giving him a glaring side glance. 

"Yeah?" 

"That's the thirty-second time you've sighed today," he commented.

Hefty sat back up on the bench, "That many, huh?"

"Yeah, and it's getting annoying."

"Sorry, bro," he said grimly. 

"And stop apologizing," Grouchy rolled his eyes. "That's even more annoying. You're not acting like yourself."

"I guess I've got a lot of things on my mind," Hefty responded quietly. "I'll butt out for today, my bad."

He started to get up from the bench but Grouchy huffed again, a little more angrily. " _ That's not what I said _ ," he bit out. 

Hefty felt a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth while he obediently parked his bottom again. If there was one thing he could do besides having great, super strength, it was reading through Grouchy like a good book. So, the Smurf was concerned about him? That was abnormal, yet refreshing. 

They sat there in sweet silence again and Hefty took to observing the other Smurfs, losing himself in thought. They ran happily around multi-colored mushroom caps, surrounded by lush forest greenery and hidden away from predators and other  _ would-be _ evil villains. All the Smurfs were jolly and humming together, doing their thing without any worries. On the other side of the plaza, Vanity Smurf walked down the path blowing kisses to himself in the mirror, bumping into Clumsy who made a far-from-graceful tumble to the ground while holding a basket of fruit. He scampered to pick the rolling pieces, accidentally headbutting Baker Smurf in the nose who immediately regretted leaning down to help him. Smurfette ran up to Baker’s side and dragged him back up to his feet, inspecting his nose while he shook his head and said everything was fine.

Then Hefty’s eyes snapped wide. Smurfette?! His entire body went rigid while he stared at the blonde who was merely a thirty second walk away. 

“Sometimes when I need to take a break, I go to a bar.”

Hefty’s ear twitched while he stared across the village, both trying to listen to Grouchy and take control of his anxiety at the same time. “Hah?” he said stupidly. He definitely wasn’t ready to be talking to her right now and each second came with the dread that Smurfette would notice him on the bench. His sacred spot was about to be jeopardized. He could picture it now, the cutie patootie waving at him with all smiles and yelling his name before trotting over to tell him about her day or ask him about his. It was too much, too soon, he just couldn’t - 

“Outside the village,” Grouchy continued a little more loudly, still in the same position while he grumped off into the distance. “A bar. I have a drink, usually scotch on ice, to think of new ways to be grumpy.”

Hefty Smurf blinked and side glanced at him, “Wait, you go outside the village?”

Grouchy looked back at him with a cock in his brow, drumming his fingers on his arm. He didn’t respond, just glaring daggers while he probably thought that Hefty was dumber than a sack of potatoes.

Trying to piece two and two together, the only thing Hefty could think of was that Grouchy was trying to let him in on a secret that would help him with his stress. It was completely against the rules; no Smurf was allowed to leave the village without letting Papa Smurf know, especially not to some unknown bar with unknown creatures. He could understand why Grouchy did it though. Smurfs didn’t exactly have alcohol of their own and any kind that Hefty knew of belonged to Papa and the other elder Smurfs. 

Grouchy reached into his pocket and handed off a folded slip of paper, grunting at him to take it. When he did, the Smurf stood up from his bench and walked away to carry on his tasks and whatever grumpy things he did, leaving Hefty alone to figure things out.

Taking one more longing gaze at Smurfette, his chest tightened painfully and he opted going back to his mushroom to analyze the note. Dipping and dodging through the crowd of Smurfs, Hefty took the long way around to avoid his friend and practically ran into the house at full speed, slamming the door shut and leaning against the wood with a heavy breath of relief. The anxious Smurf unfolded the paper, looking over Grouchy’s chicken scratch handwriting to find that they were detailed directions to the bar he was talking about. It might be awkward to ask Grouchy to just go with him... He’d have to pull up his pants and sneak out of the village on his own, but it wouldn’t be the first time Hefty managed to do that. It didn't seem like a trek where he could invite his friends, Clumsy and Brainy. Feeling motivated for a new adventure, Hefty hid the paper underneath his hat and started twisting his back and flexing his knees. Another body burning workout was in order and he wasn’t going to stop until nightfall.

And nightfall came quickly, enveloping the forest in darkness while soft twinklings of fireflies flittered among the bushes. Hefty Smurf had his backpack stuffed with supplies, just in case, and was already outside the village stepping lightly through the grass and trees. He avoided making any unnecessary noise while following the path written out in Grouchy’s instructions. The Smurf could even see how many times Grouchy took this exact path because of the wear on the ground. It zig-zagged through the forest with no legible ending, safely illuminated by moonlight. Hefty had to hand it to him, the guy was craftier than he appeared. 

What he didn’t expect, however, was the view that awaited him when he trudged up a particularly steep hill. The top overlooked a small valley of bramble lining the bottom of the mossy brick wall that divided their home with the Forbidden Forest. Hefty gulped nervously as he eyeballed the wall, following it all the way up as it seemed to touch the heavens. They weren’t allowed to go near this wall, let alone look at it. The Forbidden Forest was strictly that, absolutely forbidden. Papa would have their heads if he found out there was a couple of daring Smurfs visiting a secret hotspot that could spell doom to their entire village.

Steeling up his resolve, Hefty gripped the straps of his bag and jumped down the other side of grassy slope, sliding down to the bottom easily and looking around over the tops of the bushes for the brick marking explained on the paper. Then, he spotted it and his heart jumped into his throat. It was a simple leaf carved into the wall, surrounded by dusty vines that hung from high above. Glossy cursive on a plank of wood read, “ _ The Lost Leaf - Music Bar and Cafe”. _ He barely saw it at all, if not for a yellow glow peeking through the cracks of the brick surrounding the sign.

Excitement drowning out his better judgement, Hefty scraped himself past the bushes to get to the wall, slamming his palm into the leaf carving just like Grouchy had written. In a fast whirl of dark brick and dust, a section of the wall just big enough for a small, blue creature to pass through magically raised and separated. The grinding stone split apart to reveal a hallway that glowed bright and warm. His ears picked up casual vibrations of music that drifted through the yellow light and he grinned to himself, stepping through the opening without looking back. The hidden bar was nestled literally inside of the wall of the Forbidden Forest and Hefty had no idea who was here or what he’d discover, but if Grouchy came here often then it should be something incredibly fun. 

The rumbling music became louder and clearer the farther in Hefty walked. He soaked up every detail of the rocky hallway, his palms becoming sweaty from how hard he gripped his pack strap. In front of him lay a simple wooden door, from which the yellowed light sprung. 

He could be brave. He could be powerful. Hefty ached for something different; something that would take his mind off his heart. Feeling evermore resilient, the Smurf grasped the door handle and pushed it open, spilling the light into his eyes.

The place was spacious, lively, and nothing that Hefty expected. He stood in the doorway, absolutely shocked. Despite being momentarily blinded, the mood of the room was much darker and the floor was covered with multiple tables and chairs, occupied by numerous creatures that he both recognized and had never seen before. Fairies, gnomes, dragonflies, and rats; There were short, ugly looking guys that seemed to be made entirely of boulders, and on the opposite end, elemental beings that glittered with fire and water as they shared a table together. 

Hefty swallowed over his dry mouth and closed the door behind him, trying to make himself scarce to not attract any unwanted attention from something bigger than he could handle. He shuffled his way to the end of the cafe towards the bar, slipping into a stool towards the more… empty side. Holy Smurf, this was amazing and he didn't know what to do with himself.

"What'll it be, darlin'," came a high pitched voice in front of him. Hefty startled and looked around, spotting the tiniest little fairy girl playing bartender on the other side of the counter. She couldn't have been bigger than his outstretched palm, wearing a simple green dress than complimented her long auburn hair.

Hefty stared at the fairy and she cleared her throat loudly, making him blush in embarrassment. "Oh, uh… water, for now." 

She grinned with amusement and nodded, " Sure, baby. One water, coming up." With a fast flick in her little wrist, a mug up floated from behind the bar and slapped down in front of him, sloshing with cold, clear liquid. "Lemme know when you want something a little harder," she teased before fluttering down the way to tend to another patron. 

Gripping the stein excitedly, the blue Smurf looked carefully around himself while taking a sip.  _ The Lost Leaf _ , though simple in name, could not be called a simple place. It wasn't just the odd mixture of magic that casually lounged at each table, chattering in a slew of different languages unique to their homes. The walls themselves were adorned with a dark forest of decor. Vines spider webbed over the stone and moss grew where it pleased. There was even a gentle stream of water falling from the ceiling in the corner. He wasn't sure if it was put there on purpose or if it happened to be a just a leak - either way, he enjoyed the scene immensely. 

Looking far to the other side of the cafe, Hefty inwardly gasped as he couldn't believe he hadn't seen this already. The entire back wall was a wooden stage set, illuminated by bright yellow fluorescent crystals that grew up from the ground. The sharp spikes had split right through the floorboards, aggressively claiming the stage while creating an indescribable, natural beauty. 

The music stopped and there was a quiet round of clapping. An elf-like musician made a quick bow and exited the stage to the left, trotting down the stairs and back to his table. There was a soft muttering among the room, drifting over the softest clinking of glasses on tables. Hefty was curious if there was going to be another performance, so he twisted on his stool with mug in hand, watching the area with the rest of the crowd.

"I'm up!" 

The shout came from closer to Hefty's position and he startled, gripping his bare chest with a heavy breath. It seemed he was more on the edge than he realized, he might actually have to drink something hard to calm down.

A short, dark creature with long, upright hair and big ears clattered to his feet, slamming his empty beer bottle on the table with the rest of his collection. There were a couple of hoots and hollers thrown his way, urging him onward. It seemed this wasn't his first rodeo and the atmosphere shifted towards his favor. The drunken being chuckled and carefully made his way to the stage. Hefty leaned forward on his stool, trying to get a better look at what could be hilarious. The guy was completely smashed and teetering on his feet. 

It was a troll like Hefty had never seen, blue skinned and sporting royal blue hair. He climbed up the stage stairs with difficulty but managed to make it to the seat in the center of the stage where the mic stand rested. "Alright, alright," he rasped into the microphone when some of the audience cheered at him. The troll plopped into the chair and sighed, closing his weary eyes with a starting hum while he searched for the balance in his vocal cords.

"This charmer," came a blissful sigh from Hefty's side. The small bartender had returned and she was gazing wistfully at the troll, her chin propped on her hand while she floated in the air.. 

"Is he pretty good?" Hefty asked her casually and she smiled wide, bright eyes never wavering.

"He's a downright angel," she explained. "There are some people that come here  _ specifically  _ to hear him sing! I’m so lucky to be working tonight."

That was quite the reputation, Hefty had to admit. Was his singing really that good? The guy could barely sit straight. 

The troll opened his mouth and the entire place went absolutely quiet to listen in.

_ "I wouldn't say I'm driven, _ " he sang softly through the microphone, gripping the stand tightly for support as his body swayed. _ "I wouldn't say I'm brave... I work with what I'm given, and try to keep the faith. _

_ "I'm burning like my... bridges. I'm crashing like a wave; And I'm drinking again with the tide coming in, but that's the way it goes these days!" _

Hefty couldn't believe it. His ears must have been broken. There was no way anyone in the world could sing like this, especially not chest deep in alcohol. He'd never heard anything like it and every word, each uttered syllable, that fell from this troll's mouth made him feel things that he didn't even know existed. It was strong and uncontainable, reminding him of every time he looked at Smurfette. Instead of stabbing pain through his heart, laced with regret and fear, he bloomed with endearment and awe and it coiled low in his belly, filling him with motivation.

_ "'Cause I've been out here in the cold, finally paying tolls for all the little games I played. I've been trying to save my soul, blaming rock and roll, for all of the mistakes I've made…" _

While Hefty was entranced with the song, the blue troll finally opened his eyes and looked up, his gaze drifting lazily through the crowd until he locked on to the Smurf. They stared at one another and Hefty felt like he couldn't breathe right then. His eyes were like an ocean, full of depth and mystery, and Hefty wanted to dive into them and never come back for air. Who in the world was this guy?

_ "So now I'm gonna sit and wait, forever and a day,"  _ the troll continued to sing while watching Hefty intensely. _ "For you to come and take my hand… To lead me away from this hell that I've made, and if you ask me where I've been? _

_ "I've been wasted… Sorry, but I'm wasted. I've been wasted… Waiting for you." _

Something inside the Smurf was pushing him forward, urging him to go up to the troll. He didn't know what he wanted to say, he just knew that he'd regret everything the rest of his life if he let this creature get away without sharing a conversation. He had to be completely out of his mind but his limbs didn't want to listen to logic. An enthusiastic applause filled the bar and the troll wobbled up from the chair, throwing his hand up dramatically in an awkward thanks before leaving to the side just like the one before him. Hefty quickly jumped off his stool and weaved around the tables to head him off, hoping to God that he could manage simple sentences and not look like a complete idiot. He had motive, but no purpose, but maybe the troll was drunk enough that he could get away with it.

"Hey," Hefty breathlessly called out to his back, "wait a minute, guy."

The blue creature stalled and quarter turned, looking over his shoulder with a look of disdain, which caught Hefty completely off guard. The angelic voice had nothing to do with his personality and he was afraid he was about to learn it the hard way.

"You want somethin’ from me," the troll spat at him, making sure that he was exactly five steps away from Hefty's position. 

"Uh, well, not really but I just wanted to-"

"Then make yourself disappear," he said, cutting him off. "Go. Poof." He groped his hands in the air and tried to make it look like an exploding gesture, then turned away and carefully walked over to the bar, clinging into a nearby stool to steady his drunken stumble.

Following close behind, the Smurf wasn't going to give up so easily. "Can I get you a drink?" Hefty grinned, trying to hold in a bubble of laughter because as much as this creature wanted to look tough, he could never live up to Grouchy Smurf with the way he was bumbling around.

"Orange ale," he called loudly, climbing into the seat and slamming his forehead into the counter. His long hair limped over the bar counter and was long enough to drape over the other side.

Hefty winced, glancing around to see if anyone else was going to come to this guy's aid. It didn't seem like they were attracting any extra attention so he claimed the stool next over. After waving at the bartender and ordering two orange flavored ales, as requested, Hefty quietly observed the singer's form. His eyes raked over his hair and down his back, noting the ragged looking vest and patched-up shorts. It wasn't the most pleasing outfit, but not much could be said about Hefty's simple white pants. All in all, he looked well built and sturdy, and Hefty could appreciate that. You know, since his own body was his entire life’s work. 

Nursing his glass bottle slowly, Hefty noted the sweet and tangy burn, then the blue troll finally raised his head off the counter. It had seemed like an eternity while his face was planted into the wood; there were already three more performers who’d come and gone and the night was passing quickly. 

“Thanks,” the troll mumbled, fisting the bottle that Hefty got for him and swigging about half of it in a single go. 

“Sure thing, buddy.” Hefty said with a less than subtle beam of happiness. “The name’s Hefty Smurf. What about you; what’s your name?”

He was quiet for awhile, avoiding looking at the Smurf. Perhaps he was contemplating conversation, or just trying to find his tongue at all. After a minute, the blue creature glanced his way with an arch in his brow, setting down the drink. “Branch,” he said, a little quieter. When the guy wasn’t grinding out his words, his normal voice was as sweet as his singing. Hefty’s heart did a tiny acrobat inside.

“That’s a great name!”

Branch rolled his eyes dramatically but Hefty caught briefest smile flash over the troll’s lips before he aggressively stashed it away, resuming his standoffish nature. The Smurf could see it - there were layers upon layers of different emotions and secrets that made up this magical being. He was so curious about him that he was sick from all the knots in his stomach. Who was he, where did he come from? How could he sing so beautifully and why was he drinking himself to death in this bar? The last question had Hefty reeling, suddenly concerned about the behaviour. Honestly, he was probably trying to drown out a pain that he couldn’t handle. It would be the same reason why Hefty decided to come here in the first place. The idea that something was hurting this amazing troll twisted Hefty enough to make his fist clench around his bottle. One thing was for sure, he wasn’t going to leave the bar until he was certain he could meet Branch again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Branch's song - Wasted by 8 Graves  
> https://youtu.be/-LyzHUe9kME


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I haven't forgotten about this story! If you're still interested in reading about some magical stuff with a Smurfs and Trolls crossover, I got you covered. I'm thinking about updating this one at the same time as my main fic, so it would be two chapters at a time rather than one every 8 months. Oof, sorry about that.  
> Well I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for stopping by~

The Lost Leaf was entirely too interesting for Hefty. He darted his eyes around, watching the other magical beings with an unbound curiosity. The music continued over the hour, changing from genre to genre and creature to creature. Some tunes were familiar but most of them he’d never fathomed of hearing. Being able to experience all these different life forms in one room blew his mind and it was increasingly hard to keep his attention on his drink. The form that caught his attention the most, of course, was the rowdy blue troll that sat next to him at the bar counter. All Hefty wanted was to get his attention and learn more about him, that wasn’t too much to ask right?

"So buddy, where are you from? I haven't seen a creature like yourself in my whole life; and I've been around awhile," Hefty chuckled at his own joke, thinking about his many Smurf years. Funny enough, he was well over one hundred years old but the only block he circled was inside his own mushroom village. He wouldn’t admit that their whole community was basically a bunch of shut-ins. Branch refused to respond to him, scratching a bit of his thick hair and pulling his head back into position from its current lull. 

“Okay, uh.” Hefty tried to think of something more simple. “What about your singing,” he asked. “Have you sang your whole life? You’re really good at it, ya know.”

The troll abruptly slammed his palm into the counter. “Another… o-one,” Branch hiccuped between words, outright ignoring that question and waving his hand inward to somehow coax the next beer bottle.

Hefty grimaced and helped push it to his hand, “Slow down a bit, little bro,” he said worriedly. “You’re gonna be really sick if you keep up this pace.”

“Shut up.” The troll tipped his chin up and gulped down his drink. When it was empty, he made a twisted face and covered his mouth, the glass clattering on the bar counter as it slipped out and knocked into the others of his collection. 

"Whoa," Hefty eased, touching Branch on the shoulder. "You okay? Need a bucket?" His hand was swatted away like an annoying fly and the concerned Smurf drew away quickly so not to aggravate anything further. It was killing him inside watching someone tear themselves apart and not being able to help. He just couldn't wrap his head around why Branch was taking this so far. Drinking yourself silly was one thing but it almost seemed like he was trying to poison himself or drink until he lost complete consciousness. And as he worried, the troll summoned another from the bartender hovering just a few feet away.

"You best be careful of this one," the faerie chimed in, fluttering to gather up the accumulated mess Branch was making. She danced her finger through the air and the bottles, one by one, quickly disappeared behind the counter. "He may have a pretty voice but he doesn't quite like being bothered by random people. Just let ‘em do his thing, these sorts of episodes happen every so often."

"Oh yeah? What about his friends, where are they? Wouldn’t they help him with... this?" Hefty asked her, gesturing to pretty much all of Branch and his state.

Suddenly Branch let out a loud bark of laughter, making Hefty and a few others nearby startle in their seats. That was a surprising reaction, maybe he was having problems with a friend? The defeated Smurf heaved a breath and shook his head, rotating away on his stool to face the bar and put his fist under his chin. The fae girl shrugged indifferently and let them be, going about her own chores. So much for wanting to get to know this guy. It was beginning to look hopeless the harder he tried. He was also beginning to worry about getting back to Smurf Village on time. Showing up around day break wasn't an option; he'd be caught red handed and Papa would ground him to his mushroom until he was old and grey like Papa himself! Time was not on his side.

"Hey, listen," Branch said then.

Stalling on his next sip of beer, the Smurf side glanced and opened his ears. This was it. This was when he was going to get told to go away, get out, or the blue troll would just get up and leave him behind. It's not like he didn't expect it. They weren't friends, after all. It was just mildly upsetting since Hefty thought for sure that there was something to obtain. He'd grasped so eagerly in the darkness of this stranger's bubble to catch his attention, all for naught.

"Do you… wanna go somewhere?" Branch said, setting his hazy gaze forward to the lining of liquor stashed behind the bar. Branch had put down his last drink, straightening slightly in his seat. He looked like he was seriously contemplating his actions or wondering if he was actually inebriated or not. 

Hefty blinked in confusion, scratching slightly under his hat then he looked around the establishment to see if there was anything extra he ended up missing the first time around. "Wait, where," he asked. What a weird request, where could they possibly go? There were no other doors or rooms besides the exit. "You mean you wanna go outside?"

A devilish smirk bloomed over Branch's lips and he reeled in his seat to give Hefty his full, undivided attention. The troll leaned into him, taking up all of their personal space. The Smurf’s eyes widened slightly but he didn't retreat, curiosity consuming him.

"Let's get out of here," Branch whispered in a delicately sweet tone that sent a blinding white shiver down Hefty's spine. "I know a great place." He was just a few breaths away and Hefty could smell sharp tang from the exorbitant amount of alcohol he'd drank that night. Hefty wasn't sure if he was excited or terrified, but as the troll pushed against the counter to leave his bar stool, he was following right behind without a second to lose. There was no Smurfing way he was going to deny that invite, wherever it might lead. The troll stumbled at first but somehow regained his balance, heading around the tables to the exit at a pace Hefty didn't think was possible in a drunk person.

They pushed through the only door of the bar, then Branch abruptly turned and shouted full force across the cafe. “I’M LEAVING NOW, AND I’M NEVER COMING BACK!” Hefty almost jumped straight out of his skin and many of the entities inside chuckled at the two of them. Branch grabbed his wrist and yanked him through the door and down the dusty tunnel. It slammed shut behind them, leaving the tunnel as dark and drab as Hefty remembered it.

“Never again?” Hefty gasped, looking back at the door as they left. “But the faerie said you go there all the time!”

“That’s just something I say,” Branch mumbled.

“I don’t get it,” Hefty said, utterly confused.

The two stopped right before the exit and Branch turned to the side wall, feeling around the bricks and grunting, “They know I’ll be back. I say I won’t, just in case. I always try to... never come back.”

Hefty furrowed his brow, trying to decipher the depths of his meaning. He doesn’t want to come back, but always does in the end? That didn’t make much sense either. His shouting parting gift was like he was trying to spare his fans feelings if he did end up abandoning The Lost Leaf at some point. Just then, Branch found his secret mechanism hidden among the brick crevices. The troll harrumphed in satisfaction and stepped back a pace, letting the stone wall rise up after pushing the button. The rock crunched and ground against itself, clearing a rectangular doorway from the floor to reveal an even dustier and dark slab staircase with no other discerning features. 

Hefty peeked into the cavern and grimaced, noticing he couldn’t see an ending to these stairs. “This great place you wanna go to… is up here?”

“After you, Handsome.” Branch grinned and bowed slightly to the Smurf, gesturing for him to take the first step under the crumbling overhang.

Hefty frowned and straightened up his shoulders. Something like this wasn’t going to break his determination. He was the strongest Smurf and only a few things scared him. Honestly, he wanted to trust Branch based solely on his gut instincts; logically, however, no one else of sane mind would take a daring step in, or even attempt to be friends with someone this suspicious. “Here we go then,” he said, ducking under the low hanging rock and climbing one step at a time, away from the only light source behind them.

Branch followed after him, chuckling as they climbed each cold step slowly, one at a time. “You give me too much faith,” he mused. “I could be luring you into a trap.”

“I'd like to see you try and trap me," Hefty smiled. "I’ve never met anyone stronger than myself. My name isn’t Hefty for no good reason... Maybe  _ you  _ should be cautious of  _ me. _ ”

"I'm cautious of everything and everyone," Branch grunted. "Don't underestimate me, I could - ack!" The troll's foot missed a step and he ended up grappling into the staircase on all fours so not to slip down. Hefty turned and grabbed him quickly by the neck of his vest, hoisting the creature onto his feet with no effort at all. Branch blinked in surprise and rubbed the back of his hair, muttering to himself.

"You're pretty light," the Smurf said thoughtfully, continuing his trek up the never ending stone steps. 

"Shut up," Branch scoffed. “I’d rather be light than a musclebound meat head.” 

Seeing that Branch was completely aware of his strength only filled Hefty with pride. Bantering with him was too fun, Hefty was having the time of his life right now. Sure, he was in a dangerous looking place where no one but Grouchy Smurf could find him, and he was running around in the dark with a guy he’d never met before, let alone even seen his race before,  _ and  _ the troll was completely intoxicated, unpredictable, and snarky as heck; but it was really fun anyway. Hefty’s gut told him everything was going to be alright, he could take care of himself. So with that peace of mind, the Smurf climbed the stairs ahead and reached the top in no time at all, bumping his hat into the ceiling.

“Ouch,” he huffed. “This is it.”

“Hurry,” Branch shoved at his back from behind. “I feel sick from all this claustrophobia.” 

The door was hinged above him and Hefty pushed against the creaking wood, popping it outwards to let in a fresh gust of air. He was greeted with a stunning clear view of the night sky filled with stars. The Smurf climbed up and out of the hole and gasped, looking around himself in a dizzying three-sixty. The trap door led to a slope on the opposite side of the Forbidden Wall. The grassland came up against the stone bricks like it was trying to climb over the top of it. They were so high up that Hefty could look over the fluffy tops of the forest trees and see a jagged mountain rage hundreds of miles away, cutting through the lighter side of the sky. Sunrise was almost upon them, changing the colors of the clouds and shimmering a beautiful mountain outline. 

“Great view, isn’t it?” Branch walked up to his side and broke up Hefty’s trance. 

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” the Smurf awed. 

“This is my spot,” Branch said matter-of-factually. “I made that passage over a year ago to get to this hill. It’s great for scoping out the enemy, drawing maps, getting locations on all the birds’ nests, and uh… picking flowers, for my village.” The troll gestured downwards and Hefty followed his hand, letting his eyes travel far down the wild slope to see a valley packed full with a rainbow of flowers. Most of them were fat and healthy tulips, unobstructed by anything else in the forest. The field was circular and small, like it was being protected by magic itself.

“Wow!” Hefty exclaimed, pointing down at the flowers. “We don’t have flowers like that in my village, this is amazing! Can we go down there?”

Branch burst out laughing, wrapping his arms around his middle. Hefty blushed at himself. Of course he seemed a little too enthusiastic, the troll had no idea that he’d never been on this side of the Forbidden Wall before. Branch didn’t know that he wasn’t even allowed this far outside his village. On top of that, the blue creature’s laugh was so genuine and pure that Hefty’s heart did a somersault when he heard it. The crisp, high sound rang true like a spring melody.

“Sure, let’s go,” Branch said with a smile, wiping a stray tear from his eye from all his giggling. 

The two walked down the angled grass with as much care as Branch could muster. His feet were still like unstable jello but managed to make it to the valley without falling down. Reaching the flowers only confirmed to Hefty that they were as beautiful as he thought. The Smurf knelt down and touched one of them, feeling the petals without damaging the delicate flower.

Branch plopped down on his bottom and breathed out heavily, “Damn, I’m tired,” he heaved. “I overdid it tonight.”

“That’s one way to say it,” Hefty agreed, coming back and sitting next to the troll. Branch was resting with his legs straight out, leaning on his palms. Hefty’s legs stretched farther, noticing that he was definitely taller than the troll if you didn’t count his outrageous amount of hair. It wasn’t that bad; though. The Smurf liked looking at it. The royal blue swirled up perfectly without a single strand out of place; the tips fluttered in the breeze and made it look completely weightless.

Gazing out over the field of tulips, Branch sighed slow and heavy with a soft smile. He looked finally relaxed and happy, something Hefty was witnessing for the first time. There was a glow touching his cheeks, coming from the few freckles he owned. They shimmered a magical silver hue, like a spotting of stars against the dark night sky. Branch turned to look at Hefty, smiling in a manner that reminded Hefty of something wonderful. It was almost the same as when Smurfette turned his way; a genuine smile from their heart, and one that was meant only for Hefty to see.

"It’s great here," Branch said dreamily. 

"It’s wonderful," Hefty agreed. “Showing this to me,” he said slowly, “it means more than you know.” The Smurf meant it wholeheartedly and he wished he could relay the complexity of his gratitude to Branch. It was impossible to figure out right now but his heart was doing little pitter patters and back flips, along with a twisting nausea that threatened to make him actually sick. That had to mean something good, right? Hefty looked back towards the field of flowers, watching the petals dance among the winds and illuminated moonlight. The lights were flickering against the blades of grass, creating a dark green ocean of life speckled with a multitude of different colors. Just as he thought it couldn’t get prettier, nature decided to prove him wrong.

The troll raised his arms and stretched deep above his head with a tired groan, then allowed himself to fall backwards against the soft grass of their valley. He wiggled into his comfort then threw an arm loosely over his eyes. “He was so right about you," Branch mumbled tiredly. 

"Heh, yeah." Hefty watched a tiny firefly float its way over the tulips in the distance, not really hearing what Branch said at first. Then he whipped back to the troll and exclaimed, "wait, what do you mean?! You met someone who knew me?” 

Branch was quiet, his chest rising and falling slowly.

"Hey, hey! Don't ignore me now," Hefty whined at him, shaking his shoulder. "Did you meet ‘em at the cafe? Hey, Branch? Come on." 

The troll's arm slipped off his eyes and flopped lifeless to the side, revealing that he was completely unconscious and dead to the world. Crap, this wasn’t good. Hefty rubbed his hand down his face and looked around themselves, trying to figure out his next move. He couldn’t leave Branch in the wilderness. The sun was almost fully peaked and he had to get back to his village or he’d be in a world of pain. Where did Branch even live? He’d never even met a troll before. It was entirely possible that trolls lived on this side of the Forbidden Forest, but traveling alone through this unknown land was a definite no-no. Papa would somehow miraculously find out and who knows what would happen to Hefty then.

“Sorry, bro,” he apologized, getting to his feet and judging his best approach to pick up the unconscious creature. “I can’t just leave you out here alone! There’s all kinds of evil that would try to snatch up a nice guy like you.” Nervously chuckling to himself about Branch being a nice guy, which he was still unsure about that validity, Hefty opted to gingerly pick up the intoxicated troll and draped him over his shoulder to take him back to the other Smurfs. They would be just as surprised to see him as Hefty was but there weren’t really a lot of options. He could fabricate some sort of lie about finding Branch stranded, but that didn’t really explain why Hefty had left the village in the first place. With a knot of anxiety buried in his stomach, Hefty hoped he would wake up sooner rather than later and make it back home on his own. The Smurf hurried his trek back the way they came, carrying Branch back up the hill and down the staircase, weaving out through the forest trees to find Grouchy’s foot path. Hefty knew he was going to be in deep trouble the second he stepped foot on Smurf grounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing about magical stuff and great scenery. If only I was good at it. qq


	3. Chapter 3

_ Mushrooms… _

_ Mushrooms? _

The smell of mushrooms was so powerful. Bold and earthy, the unfamiliar tastes invaded Branch’s senses. Slowly, the troll’s fingers, ears, and toes twitched and curled. He tried to drag himself out of sleep. His entire body was full of heavy lead and didn’t want to cooperate. Was there a patch of mushrooms growing next to his bed? That wouldn’t be good. It only meant there was a leak in his water system that needed to be repaired.

_ La-la la la la laaa! Hum-hum humm mm... _

Branch scrunched his nose against the distant noise, growing exponentially uncomfortable. The trolls were singing so loud he could hear it even inside his bunker. What kind of song was that, anyway? How long had he slept in this morning? Uneasy about many things, Branch finally managed to crack open his eyelids. It took a moment for his vision to adjust, the world was a giant blur and completely unstable. He dragged his arm out of the bedsheet and rubbed his eyes 

“Hnn?” When the troll saw nothing but an unexpected blue expanse that looked like a big nose in his face, his eyes snapped wide open. Branch shrieked, throwing his hands up and hair outwards. “AAAAHHHHHH!”

“AHHHGGG?!” Hefty woke up instantly and screamed in return while Branch roughly flipped him out of the bed they shared with his long, royal hair. It slithered fast around Hefty's waist and dropped him over the edge without mercy. The Smurf flopped into the floor with a heavy thunk, “Yeowtch, ugh!”

“Who are you?!” Branch yelled, sitting up and jabbing his finger at the Smurf on the ground. “Why are you in my bed; in my bunker?! If you so much as take one more step forward I won't hesitate to clobber you senseless!"

"Easy there!" Hefty scrambled to his feet and raised both palms up, hoping that the troll didn't actually jump and attack him. "Don't you remember me?” he cried out. “Please keep it down. Holy moly, somebody might hear you."

"Remember what? Huh?" Branch’s breath was coming in short gasps as he looked quickly about himself. He wasn’t safe at home in his bunker, it was someone else’s room. Their house was made out of a giant, red mushroom! Suddenly there came a throbbing pain in his head and he grabbed his temples, groaning in regret. Bits and pieces of his all-night drinking fiasco finally came to the surface of his memory, along with the headache of an extreme hangover.

“Oh God,” Branch moaned. “This is awful. I can't believe it." He must've drank himself to the brink of death last night because he barely remembered anything at all. There was a fight with Poppy, The Lost Leaf, singing, drinking… He mentally traced his steps, trying to figure out what happened between meeting this guy and ending up in his house. 

"Do you know who I am?" Hefty asked, still standing a few feet away and looking completely antsy.

Branch glanced over him with disdain, up and down from his shirtless chest to large feet. Bulky in stature and much bigger than he first realized, the stranger definitely wasn’t a troll by any unique means. With skin incredibly blue and smooth without an inch of hair or fuzz to be seen, could he be bald, maybe? There wasn’t even hair poking out from under his hat. His captor watched worriedly in wait but the troll honestly couldn’t remember this guy’s name or how they met.

One bit of information did stick out like a sore thumb, however. This big, blue creature fit the description of a race he’d studied years ago with someone who looked just like him. It was the only lead and the only thing that made sense. "I have no idea who you are,” Branch grimaced. “But… I think I know where I am. You're a Smurf, right? Is this Smurf Village?"

Hefty blinked in surprise, "Yeah, That's right... How'd you know?"

"Well, you're not a  _ troll, _ " Branch rolled his eyes, slipping out of the bed. He got to his feet and gingerly tested the strength in his legs. Yep, he definitely was a stumbling drunk last night because he could still feel the instability. Hoping there was nothing else wrong, Branch quickly inspected himself. Everything seemed to be in order; still wearing all his clothes, nothing damaged or bruised. He smoothed out his leafy vest and threw his fingers through his hair to straighten it out. His head throbbed painfully and it threatened to take Branch to the ground but he had to get this mess straightened out and return home immediately. Only then he could nurse his ego with a hot cup of tea and a day's rest.

"I've introduced myself once already, but…" Hefty said nervously as he reached for a glass of water on his bedside table. He walked to the troll and offered it to him, "My name is Hefty Smurf. I live here in this village with my brothers, on the North side of the Forbidden Wall. Here, drink this. It’ll make you feel better."

Hefty Smurf. 

Branch froze solid at the name while his brain tried to pry open and dust off every bit of memory he had from ten years ago. No one else could own that name, it was too unique. Was this the Smurf that his mentor had mentioned? It’s been so long, he couldn’t be sure.

Branch swallowed his anxiety and eyed the glass. His throat was completely dry now, whether from the shock or from last night. He gingerly took the offering after deciding it was safe enough, considering his circumstances. Hefty beamed happily and it only made Branch more uncomfortable. After a cautious sip, he rubbed the ache in his head and shoved the water back. "So," he asked, "Did you kidnap me? Why am I here?"

The Smurf chuckled and put the cup back down on the nightstand, "Kidnap? Sort of… You passed out in the middle of nowhere, so I brought you home with me. There’s no telling what kind of monsters are out in the forest at night. It's safer here in the village. Plus, I had no clue where you lived."

"How generous," Branch quipped. "Next time, just leave me in the forest, I’ll find my way." 

Hefty crossed his arms, clearly not impressed. Branch tried not to notice how his arms bulged up around his naked chest. Would it kill him to wear a bit more clothing? 

"Hey bro, I was only trying to help you. Hopefully there won’t be a next time, I almost lost my tail out there dragging you home."

"I don't remember asking for your help," Branch grunted.

"You don't remember a lot of things, looks like," Hefty said with a smirk. “Do you always drink yourself stupid or is this your first time?”

“That’s none of your business,” Branch huffed. The bastard had a sharper tongue than he was used to, putting even the snarkiest of trolls to shame. He couldn't let Hefty rile him up, it wouldn’t be good to tear apart what little relationship they had until Branch had a solid plan of escape. 

Reeling in his pride, Branch ignored the rest of the Smurf’s rattling to take a gander at his surroundings. Hefty’s house was just one, giant room. The place felt pleasingly simple and empty, spare the scattered exercise equipment and numerous dumbbells littering the hardwood floor. There was a shelf of polished trophies stashed against the wall and a singular locked chest that looked to be where he kept his clothes; if he actually owned any other clothes. The guy probably had a one track mind and an ego bigger than anything he’d ever seen. It could always be worse, Branch supposed.

The faster he got out of here, the better. He could see the look in Hefty's eyes. He was way too happy to have Branch inspecting his house. The Smurf must want something from him and it was utterly unnerving that Branch couldn't remember meeting him at all. How much time did they actually spend together? What kind of conversations took place, and did Branch reveal anything personal that could potentially ruin him?

Hefty Smurf was about to experience another rude awakening. He decided it would only end in disaster for the both of them if anything else came out of this unfortunate meeting. Taking a chance and leaving things to fate wasn’t a normal course of action, but the troll didn’t have any choice. Branch turned to the front door, ready to get the hell out and find his way back to the Troll Tree. He was instantly cut off by Hefty.

The Smurf blocked his way, jumping between him and the exit. "Hold up," Hefty said in a panic. "You can't go outside yet."

"Excuse me?" Branch said. "I'm going home now. It was nice meeting you, yatta yatta, thanks for everything. Goodbye."

"Wait!” Hefty refused to move, dancing in front of Branch every time he tried to dodge around to get to the door. “If the other Smurfs see you, I will be skinned alive. Leave tonight when it's dark! That’s all I ask."

"Sorry, no can-do!"

Being faster than Hefty, he managed to duck around and grab the door handle. Branch abruptly yanked it open before anyone could stop him and winced at the wave of sunlight. When the glow in his eyes subsided he was immediately met with another bright blue Smurf, who was coincidentally about to knock on Hefty's door. This one looked almost identical but was much smaller in stature, skinnier, and wore a thick pair of glasses. They stared at each other for one awkward moment until the smaller Smurf took a step back and yelled over his shoulder, "Papaaa Smuurrf!" He dashed away from the entrance and down the dirt path at a breakneck pace. Hefty took the knob from Branch and slammed the door shut with a frustrated sigh.

"Wouldn't you know it? That's my luck. I'm dead," he said with a frown.

"Oh come now, where's that spirit from before?" Branch smiled weakly. Mistakes were made and Hefty looked completely aggravated. The last thing he needed was to piss off his kidnapper and be potentially ripped in half.

Hefty groaned and brushed past him with a face so downcast that it could have started raining from the ceiling.

“How about I stay then, for about an hour or so,” Branch offered, rubbing the back of his head in guilt. “Or I could sneak out the window, disguise myself as a tumbleweed. No one would bat an eyelash in my direction. Are tumbleweeds native in this land?”

“It’s too late now. Papa is going to wanna meet you when he's done burying my remains.” Hefty turned his back to the troll and tugged on the edges of his hat, pulling the material over his eyes. "Dang, what am I gonna do? I knew this would happen."

Branch’s better nature was feeling more sympathetic to his situation. The Smurf did this to himself, though. Branch had nothing to do with his demise and there was nothing that could stop him from avoiding this ‘Papa’. It was too obvious now that Hefty lived a constricted life, probably under the thumb of a higher authority. Branch’s curiosity was overwhelming; Something was about to go down and he needed to see the outcome; for scientific purposes, sure. Was a couple of hours going to change anything when he got home to Troll Village? Probably not. Poppy would still hate him and he would just slip back into his bunker like nothing ever happened. The trolls probably didn’t even know he was gone.

Humming gently as he thought about his options, Branch turned away from the door to take a wooden chair sitting next to Hefty’s trophy table. He dropped into the seat and folded his arms behind his head, making a show of getting comfortable. "Good luck to you," he said to Hefty. “I’ll be a good troll and hang out for awhile, if that’s what you want. It’s the least I can do to repay your good deeds.” A little sarcastic; it’s all Branch was good at to hide the truth. He really did feel grateful to land in the hands of someone capable and kind. He imagined that his drunken self was hardly tolerable and mean to the bone. He probably said many awful things, and Hefty probably had a heart made of gold.

The distraught Smurf proceeded to pace his house, mumbling to himself and biting his nails. Branch watched in sympathy, analyzing everything he could about Hefty while he had the chance. 

Truth be told, he'd only met one Smurf in his lifetime and it had been a decade since that meeting. In the breezy afternoons, he ventured outside his bunker to collect supplies. Branch’s younger version was still grey and colorless back then and he outcast himself from the village. One fateful day, when traveling too far into the forest, he stumbled across the wall separating the worlds and an equally adventurous Smurf who took a great liking to him. Branch spent days upon days meeting the stranger outside the village. He was taught about Smurf Village and its many secrets, and about one particular Smurf named Hefty that they had a close relationship with. Branch always found it odd that he couldn’t remember the name of the one who taught him, but only the name of what they spoke. 

Smurf Village was protected by a magical barrier and hidden away from all other civilizations for good reason. There were a multitude of magical properties stored away in the etchings of their history. The race themselves had magic running through their blood, and as far as Branch knew, it had no limit. Enemies from around the world would give anything to have such unbound potential. It was difficult to believe magic of that power flowed from something so small and pure. 

And Hefty over here, having shared a place so precious to an outsider, it’s no wonder the muscle head was losing his marbles right now. Branch knew he wasn't supposed to be here; this was a strict Smurf-only zone. His knowledge was never to be spoken aloud, kept by an oath he made to this Smurf he couldn't possibly remember. He swore on his life that he would keep Smurf Village a secret to anyone he knew;

and that if he ever found Hefty Smurf, he would ‘save his heart’ so that Hefty could save his in return.

Branch frowned and his brows knit together, delving deep into his memories. It couldn’t be him. 

The flickering images and words he was able to pull together talked about this Hefty being someone who was strong, bold, brave, and yet also weak and helpless. It really didn’t make a lot of sense back then, and it most definitely didn’t make any sense today. Save each other’s hearts? It sounded so ominous. The strange Smurf of his past probably told him that because he was a depressed little trolling wandering the forest on his own. His heart didn’t need saving, either. Branch was perfectly fine these days, apart from the unavoidable drama with his friend Poppy. That was something he just didn't want to think about right now.

A quick bang on the front door startled both of them and Hefty went rigid. 

"Hefty! Papa says come to his mushroom right away! And bring that weirdo with you." The voice outside belonged to the tattle-tale from before.

Hefty whined in defeat, letting his face fall into his hands.

"Weirdo?" Branch scoffed. "That's offensive."

"Brain-man’s got the biggest mouth, I swear," Hefty muttered to himself. He straightened up and took a deep breath, trying to shake off his nerves. "Let's go, Branch," he called. "Can we just get this over with? Then you can go home. I'm sorry for dragging you along; I know this is all my fault."

Branch got up from his seat and casually dusted his shorts, gesturing for the Smurf to lead the way. "As long as you know."

Finally, at long last, Branch was able to see the long awaited build up of what Smurf Village was all about. Unfortunately, venturing outside Hefty's mushroom almost made him want to turn around and go back in. It took a long time to adjust to the hustle and bustle of a regular troll lifestyle, but you'd think he'd be prepared for anything now. There was always something crazy going on and Branch got caught up in every situation imaginable. 

The troll folded his arms and cocked his brow, taking in every single Smurf detail he could catch his eyes on. On the front landing of Hefty’s home, he had a clear view of the entire center square that was just as unkempt as he was used to. The atmosphere reminded him of Troll village, but with a lot less music and a lot more blue. There were many different colored mushroom houses; yellow, red, blue, green, you name it. The grass was clean cut and there were winding paths going from one mushroom to the next and then back to the middle of the town. Packed to the brim with Smurfs of all shapes and personalities, the area was crowded and crazy. They ran up and down the dirt hills and lounged on the rooftops, doing a number of oddball tasks and generally having a good time. 

"You all look the same," Branch concluded dully.

"Hey, what? That's not true!" Hefty exclaimed. He gestured to his brothers in the distance, pointing out a few with a prideful smile. "Every Smurf out here is different and unique. See right there? That's Chef Smurf and Clumsy, Jokey, Handy, Painter Smurf-"

"And what are you supposed to be?" Branch asked.

"Our names come from our dominant trait," Hefty explained with a grin. He flexed his bicep nicely and showed off the enlarged muscle, his red heart tattoo bulging to the strain. "I have super strength. No one else can do what I do."

Branch couldn't help but watch his muscles, trying not to linger a second too long. He could see the difference between Hefty and the other Smurfs. They were all blue, of course, and wore the same white hat and matching pants. His chest and arms were much thicker in comparison and Hefty held himself up in a powerful stance. This guy was not playing around and Branch felt sorry for his enemies. The weight equipment all over the floor made a lot more sense now. Hefty Smurf, the strong one...

Hefty jerked his thumb to the left and they walked down the path towards what could only be Papa's mushroom. It was a bit larger than the others, complete with a white picket fence and garden in the front. Being the only troll in the area suddenly made Branch feel incredibly self conscious while they made their way over. The Smurfs they walked by were shocked and silly when they spotted him, dropping their baskets and stumbling over their feet. None of them even shared a greeting for Hefty; opting instead to dive out of the way, go back into their houses, or hide behind bushes and wooden carts. 

Branch felt sour by the negative reactions; it's like they've never seen a troll before. He imagined that would be a possibility. They lived on the other side of the giant wall, cut off by the rest of the world. If the trolls were in this position, there'd be an unstoppable force of cupcakes and glitter showering Hefty right now. They've never seen a Smurf either but he was one hundred percent positive that wouldn't stop them from throwing a party.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Hefty apologized again. He was clenching his fists as they walked and had a permanent twist in his lip. 

"It's not a big deal," Branch said with a shrug. "I used to get this kind of treatment back home, too.

Hefty didn't say anything but his face contorted just a little bit more. The two walked up to Papa's front door rather quickly and the Smurf made an audible swallow, raising his fist to rap on the wooden door. 

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short but there is more to come! Enjoy a tiny segment that wraps up our little Smurf village visit. :)

Although each Smurf home looked the same on the outside, much like themselves, it could not be said for the inside. Papa Smurf's mushroom was large and roomy just like Hefty’s, a singular area with vast space; yet oddly stuffed to the brim. Scattered with books and potted plants, you could barely see the floor. A quaint, brick fireplace burned in the background, sporting a massive black cauldron. It was accompanied by a giant-sized book propped open at the far wall of the mushroom. Pacing back and forth along the towering paper and multi colored bottles strewn along every inch of space, the oldest Smurf of the village peeked up from his work and beckoned Hefty and Branch inside.

He was buried, the top of his red cap the only thing visible while he bobbed up and down among a set of chemistry vials, tubes, and stacks of crumpled writing. The elderly leader hummed and rummaged through his messy room full of magical and scientific belongings, completely ignoring the presence of Hefty and Branch. The Smurf occasionally glanced at the huge spell book, taking one corner and heaving the page over with difficulty. A few mutters and bumping into an unstable tower of reading material, Papa Smurf scratched his fluffy, white beard and went back to his conjuring table. He dropped a bit of sparkling dust and a few unique herbs into a wooden bowl, grinding the ingredients to a pulp. Standing rigid by the front door, the pair of blue creatures awaiting Papa Smurf's order became much more impatient while watching him go about his personal business.

"Papa," Hefty started, "You called me?"

The old Smurf waved his hand for silence and hummed again, pouring the juices of his mixture into a glass cup. "One moment, I'm almost done."

It wasn't uncommon for Papa Smurf to be locked away in his mushroom, doing sorts of odds and ends that no one but himself could understand. Five hundred years older than any other Smurf in the village, he used his knowledge and wisdom from the ages to harness magic from nature using any means possible. Life was made easy for Smurf Village because of his kindness and guidance. Papa Smurf was just Papa, for one and all, and everyone loved and respected him. He provided everything they needed, whether it be safety from monsters or just a simple sit down about everyday life.

Hefty Smurf wouldn’t change anything about Papa, not in a million years. He was a figurative father figure, one of the few elder Smurfs that wandered the world, and leader of all Smurfs. All of these things poked and prodded at Hefty’s guilt. He knew full well the rules set in place were only for his protection. Ashamed and nervous, he could only watch the old Smurf carry on his tasks before he got the talkin’ to of a lifetime. He didn’t know what he was going to say. Should he tell the truth? Papa wasn’t ignorant, he’d see right through the lies. Hefty would have to explain everything from the beginning, dragging Grouchy down with him. He couldn’t possibly do that! There had to be another way to get out.

“Here we are,” the elder Smurf said joyfully, picking up the finished liquid and shuffling around his table to meet them at the door. Papa Smurf came right up to Branch and smiled warmly, offering him the glass. It was filled with a milky white substance, steaming gently over the rim. 

“Uh…” Appetizing was not a word Branch would use, glancing from Papa to the cup.

“It’ll help your headache,” Papa said, urging him to take the drink. “An ancient remedy I crafted many eons ago before you were born. Milk Thistle! Who would have thought? Ah, I was quite the party animal myself in those days,” he chuckled. 

With a raised brow, Branch took the glass and spotted a sharp twinkle in the old man’s eye. He’d known about his hangover before they’d even arrived.

“Papa?” Hefty asked again, his fidgeting becoming apparent as more seconds passed.

“Oh yes,” the old Smurf nodded. “That’s right! Hefty, my boy. Can you go out to the gardens and fetch me one of those pears like last week? They’re getting particularly large and I don’t want any of the young ones to hurt themselves. You can do it, right?”

“Of course I can,” Hefty said, incredibly confused. “Is that… all you want?”

“I think that’ll do it, yes,” Papa Smurf smiled and patted Hefty on the shoulder. “Hurry back.”

Slowly backing towards the front door, Hefty squeezed past the troll and wrung his hands together. He gave a nervous smile, “I’ll be right back then!” The Smurf darted through the door and it snapped shut behind him, leaving Branch and Papa alone together.

Watching the red capped Smurf warily, Branch took a small sip of his drink and his eyes widened.

“Good, isn’t it?” Papa smiled knowingly. “Go on, finish up. Let’s have a quick chat before Hefty returns. What’s your name, bright troll from another land?” He turned and started a slow walk back to his travesty of a table, gesturing to a couple of haphazardly parked chairs.

“Branch,” he replied, surprised. 

Surprised was an understatement. Branch took another gulp of the delicious juice and followed to the chairs, dropping into one across from Papa and gripping his glass with both hands. He felt like he was being reduced to an innocent trolling, about to talk with someone considerably older and wiser than him while sipping the equivalent of a juice box. On top of that, his headache had disappeared completely. Vanishing almost instantly without a trace, it could only be described as magical. Not only that, his mind was crystal and every one of his thoughts rang a clarity so resounding he was afraid that someone might actually hear them. Branch hadn’t felt this kind of self distinction in a long time; not since he started up his drinking habits.

Draining the last of the liquid, Branch sighed with gratification and set the cup on the table. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I don’t know how you knew, but thank you anyway.”

“You’re quite welcome,” Papa Smurf nodded. “It’s not easy being in your shoes, I’m sure. I mean to say, if trolls wore shoes at all.” He laughed heartily at his own joke and wiped a peaking tear from the corner of his eye.

Branch smirked and folded his arms casually, “You remind me of our own king,” he said. “It’s a nice change of pace… How much do you know about trolls, anyway?”

Papa pondered and stroked his full beard, “It would be easier to tell you what I  _ don’t  _ know about trolls. Besides that, I’d like you to tell me; how did you come to know Hefty? It’s not every day we get a troll on this side of the forest.”

Branch’s mood dropped considerably, scrunching up his nose. “I wouldn’t say I know him,” he said gruffly. “It’s… complicated. I just want to get out of here. The sooner the better; I really don’t have time for this sort of vacation.”

“Oh, I see,” Papa Smurf said sadly. “Our visit is short lived, then. If you want to go home, I’m in no position to stop you.”

“I can go? Easy; just like that?” 

“If that’s what you wish. The Troll Tree is directly East of here. You should make it back before the sun has set.”

Branch jumped up from the chair quickly, ready to dart. As much as he enjoyed being kidnapped and seeing a bunch of new creatures while being fawned over by a strange meathead, Branch was ready to head back to his own neck of the woods. Signing up for this adventure wasn’t his intention and it would be better to go while Hefty was still somewhere else. “Well, it’s been swell. I’d love to stay and chat and Lord knows you must have  _ many  _ stories to share and whatnot,” Branch said quickly, “but I  _ really _ must be going now. Send Hefty my regards.” He bound across the room at a breakneck pace and grabbed the front door handle. “See ya ‘round,” Branch said, flinging open the door to his certain freedom. He’d spared a minute, meeting Papa just like Hefty wanted, now he was leaving and no one would stop him. 

“One more thing,” Papa Smurf called out to him. The troll looked back over his shoulder, seeing that the old Smurf’s complexion looked darker now. He frowned, his eyes staring bullets straight into Branch’s soul and making him freeze. “I hate to ask this,” he said gravely. “but please don’t come back. Stay in your own village and never meet Hefty again.”

A lump formed in Branch’s throat and he blinked, suddenly very uneasy. “Why?” he asked. That was unexpected. He had no intention to ever see Hefty after this moment, but being told he wasn’t allowed to set off a number of silent alarms.

“He belongs here... and you belong out there. We cannot jeopardize the safety of our villages. You understand, don’t you?”

Saying nothing, without looking back, the troll nodded briskly and stepped out of Papa Smurf’s mushroom house. He dipped around the corner and hurried into the surrounding brush, hoping to dodge any other Smurfs wandering the paths. Parting ways like this wasn’t something to be proud of but Branch was going to take the chance as it presented itself. Hefty would be upset, surely. The beefy Smurf was too kind for his own good and Branch tried hard to not blame himself for the disappointment he knew the guy would feel. He’d get over it, move on with his life, and eventually forget meeting a troll all together. Tucking his hair down and scooting along the ground, Branch camouflaged completely into the forest and disappeared past the outskirts of Smurf Village. The farther he traveled, the more the village disappeared as if it were entirely a mirage. Branch squinted through the thicket of trees, realizing he couldn’t see anything anymore. Not a single mushroom cap in sight.

Papa Smurf was right, of course. He wasn’t going to argue about not being welcome in their hidden village. Protecting ancient magics of the forest wasn’t in Branch’s list of to-dos. None of this entire fiasco was his fault… so, why did he feel guilty? The more he thought about things, the more his chest ached. The troll walked faster and faster, until he was sprinting through the forest and swinging through the tree’s overhang by his long hair. The sun blared over his head signaling midday and it didn’t make his mood any brighter. 

The wall that separated worlds; That’s really where Branch wanted to be. Deep in his heart, the troll wanted to go back to the Troll Tree but every night at home turned the same scenario. He wasn’t able to confront Poppy and see her face to face… not after everything that happened. She searched for him, nagged at him, and he shut himself away in his bunker under lock and key. After so many banging knocks and yells that echoed through his dark halls, Branch finally ran away. Days turned into weeks while he searched for a temporary refuge to hide away from his problems.

Just as he was about to give up hope, he stumbled upon the secret lettering of The Lost Leaf. One thing led to another and before Branch knew it, he’d become a regular. The troll spent every minute of his time consumed at the bar until he couldn’t possibly drink anymore, dragging himself back to his survival bunker to sleep off the alcohol in order to repeat the cycle. There was no rhyme or reason to his actions and he didn’t have a goal. The only thing Branch knew for certain was that drinking made the pain in his heart disappear and there was nothing else he could hold onto. His only friend, Poppy, had abandoned him. 

Coming up to the Forbidden Wall, Branch panted and looked straight up, judging the sheer length of the fortress made by ancient peoples. The bricks were dusty, moss covered, and it’s parasitic vines were reaching over the top in order to touch the heavens. Thanks to Papa Smurf, he could think, he could feel, and Branch regret drinking the concoction. Keen on abolishing his newfound sobriety, Branch climbed his way back inside The Lost Leaf to pick up where he left off.


	5. Chapter 5

_ “Poppy, hey!” _

_ “Hey Branch, my main man! What’s up?” _

_ It was a bright, sunny day and just like every day before, peace was abundant. There was singing, dancing, and mountains of glitter to share. Nothing stuck out of the ordinary except the most recent addition to Troll Village; a very vibrant, happy Branch.  _

_ Bright blue and smiling wide, Branch trotted up to his friend and laughed nervously. His words tumbled out in a spew of embarrassment and uncertainty, but happy nonetheless. It was a refreshing change away from two decades of being grey. “I, uh… I wanted to talk to you for a bit. There’s something I’ve been meaning to say! I mean, something I want to give you? I have something for you, and what I mean to say is, uh…” The sporadic troll tripped over his tongue and blushed to his ears when Poppy covered her mouth and giggled. She looked beautiful today, too. Not dressed any differently than usual, but still radiant against the darker forest backdrop. _

_ “You’re acting kind of funny today. A present for me? That’s so sweet!” _

_ “Ah, yeah,” Branch shuffled his feet and kicked a stray pebble, cheeks full bloom while he grinned. “I’ve left it down in my bunker. Shall we?” _

_ The princess beamed at him and nodded, “We shall, let’s go.” _

A present. One simple gift from the heart. He was so sure of himself… and then everything went wrong.

Planted face-down into a wooden counter top, Branch cracked open his eyes and grunted in self disgust, dropping his next empty bottle on the bar. Another unwanted memory trying to sneak its way into his blurry cognition. He wasn’t nearly drunk enough tonight. 

It’d been exactly a year and two months since The Lost Leaf became Branch’s second home, and yet even in that time he was still nursing invisible wounds. Fourteen months of dreaming, unwillingly recalling every little detail of why he was hiding here to begin with. Four hundred and twenty five nights acclimating himself to a strange cavern shared between multiple worlds because, for once in his life, scientific means couldn’t pull the answer.

“You’ll have another?” 

The sloshed troll raised his gaze to the tiny faerie bartender, her hands on her hips while she leaned in to inspect his flushed face. What was her name again? Fae wings looked ominous and beautiful in the backdrop, twitching behind long, auburn hair. Branch couldn’t remember anything about the faerie except that she always gave him what he wanted, no questions asked. A hearty five inches tall, the nameless worker stood on the counter to achieve eye level and waited for his answer, giving off a quizzical look. Carrying the patience of a saint, sometimes Branch wondered why the girl coddled him. He’d spent a number of nights crashing along her bar top without so much as a single apology.

“Yeah… ‘nother,” Branch sighed, closing his eyes again and laying his face back down. The hard wood was soft for wear and felt cool against his cheek. 

Idly pondering how he’d pay for this night’s round of drinks, the troll tried to think of some easy songs he could use to sway what little crowd there was. That’s how he managed to come back every night; paying his way with music on the stage. Some nights he went up willingly, other nights he skipped. Going too long without singing for the bartender probably wasn’t a good idea since he didn’t have whatever money they used. Branch assumed she’d drop her charm and reveal her true form. A banshee, maybe? Or a gorgon. Something nasty with multiple heads and fangs. 

Scraping together lyrics in this state was always so damn difficult. Branch swam through other unavoidable turmoils, completely forgetting bits and pieces of popular tunes. He inwardly sighed again and scratched the counter top with his nail, giving up on the idea. Tomorrow would be better to sing… he couldn’t get into it right now. 

Letting his thoughts blank out for the dozenth time, Branch ended up taking an unexpected turn to reminisce about his visit at Smurf Village, if only briefly. Unwillingly envisioning Hefty Smurf, Branch at least hoped that he was fairing far better than himself. Honestly, if the troll knew better then he’d stop thinking about Hefty all together, just like everything else. His mind wouldn't listen. All it wanted to do was think about things. Think, think, think. Smurfs… smelly mushrooms. Hefty was disgustingly kind, wasn’t he? His smile was annoying… and somewhat addictive to imagine. No one had genuinely smiled in Branch’s direction for months. 

"What about you, Sugar," the bartender squeaked with a short laugh, speaking to someone else. "Let me guess… water."

"Actually, a beer. Surprise me? I’m not familiar with the flavors," came a familiar chuckle at Branch's side. The bar stool on his right scraped across the flooring, making his pointed ear flick up in alert. 

“Sure, baby. We’ll put it on  _ his  _ tab.”

The troll scrunched his nose and gripped his frosty new bottle. No way; seriously?

There was no point in looking over to who obviously joined him. Two weeks gone and Hefty actually owned the balls to come back. Branch had to give it to the Smurf, though. He expected the guy to show up a little bit sooner. Looks like Branch was right after all; Hefty couldn't stay away for long, even after the fiasco with his leader.

The wise words of Papa Smurf blared dangerously in his conscience and Branch inwardly curled away from them. They weren’t supposed to meet and for good reason, too! He wasn’t blind or stupid; he could see that Hefty was interested in him. Was he lonely? Curious? Sure, Trolls were a new and interesting race Hefty’s never met before. That was easy enough to wrap his head around. But really, there was no reason good enough to sneak out at night against your leader’s wishes, putting your entire village in jeopardy. Branch would know, he did it every night.

Frustration bubbled inside his belly and it came up fast and forceful, smashing through his hard-kept reserved demeanor. Branch didn’t care what the reason may be. He didn’t care at all! Hefty was being obnoxious, just showing up randomly out of the blue; no pun intended. It made him want to chew and spit him out. Someone had to tell him what’s what; take him down a peg or five. Who was this guy anyway? What gave him the right to come and kick Branch while he was down?

Branch bolted to his feet, the bar stool toppling over with a loud clatter. It drew the attention of a few nearby drinkers and they eyed Branch curiously. Uncaring, he slammed his palm on the counter and leaned over the big blue Smurf with a scowl worse than death. The empty glass collections rattled against each other from the force across the bar top. 

“Are ya stalkin’ me or something,” Branch spat. “ _ What are you doing _ ?!” 

Hefty wasn’t phased at all by the sudden outburst and gently set down his own bottle, rotating to face Branch head on. “Aren’t I doing what everyone else is doing?” 

He looked as smug and pristine as Branch remembered, still annoyingly shirtless and flaunting his hairless skin. Big blue nose, cocky eyebrows, perfectly straight teeth. “Don’t answer my question with a question,” Branch hissed, irritated. There, the Smurf’s sharp tongue. He wobbled and gripped the counter defiantly, unwilling to let inebriation push in the way of being angry. It was punishing his rationality and the troll mentally scrambled to keep any reason to why he was mad at all. It didn’t matter, Hefty probably deserved it. Oh yeah, he definitely deserved it.

"Listen ‘ere, blueberry boy -” Branch grunted.

“Blueberry boy?”

“- I don't wanna sit by you _,_ I don't wanna _see_ you, I don’t wanna _smell you_ -”

“Hope not, we barely know each other.” 

“- I don't even wanna use words with the letter U!"

Hefty casually folded his arms as he watched the troll steam, a smirk tugging the corner of his lips. “I’m just a normal patron looking for a drink. Who said I’m here for you?”

Branch gnashed his teeth and growled like a wild, woodland critter. That was a fair point and highly probable but his gut cried otherwise. If that’s the way the Smurf wanted to play this game then he’d be happy to ignore him! 

“Is there something the matter,” the faerie bartender piped up loudly as she returned and fluttered between the two creatures, glancing down at Branch’s toppled seat. She looked unimpressed, ready to jump into whatever fight was about to happen on her watch. 

“No, I was just leavin’,” Branch griped, clenching his fists. “Sorry…” 

“Don’t let me stop you from having a good time,” Hefty commented lightly, turning away from the troll and going back to drinking his beer. 

The Smurf didn’t say anything further and didn’t even look at him, letting Branch stand there conflicted and awkward. He looked like a jackass in front everyone and stewed in the embarrassment. After some minutes of fighting inner battles, he leaned over with some difficulty and picked up his bar stool, roughly smacking the legs down into position so he could sit as before. Face contorted and ears flattened, Branch gulped down the rest of his drink and asked for another to continue his nightly hobby of empties, as per usual. No one was going to boot him out of his favorite spot, especially not a conniving, blue-skinned bully that had no business being there.

On the other side of the playing field, Hefty used all of his willpower to hide how ecstatic he was. It took too many days pacing back home while the Smurf weighed the pros and cons on sneaking out of the village again. He’d get caught in the long run but what his brothers and Papa didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt them. Branch plagued his mind. Being so caught up in his curiosity about the troll, he'd almost successfully ignored everything about Smurfette. He needed to know more. Hefty wanted one more night to talk to him, or many more nights if Branch would let him! Moreover, there was the pressing concern about his toxic behavior. Someone had to look after him, right? There had to be something Hefty could do to ease some of the troll’s pain. Taking chances was Hefty's specialty. He was strong, brave, and courageous. The Smurf finally scraped up enough guts to visit The Lost Leaf again, searching for the little blue troll. 

Here he found him, in the exact same spot as the night they met. Hefty wordlessly slipped into the stool next door, quickly scrambling together a handful of excuses that would explain why he was there to pester Branch for a second time. When it came down to it, he only wanted to be friends. 

They sat at the empty bar in silence, listening to the faint music being played in the background by the crystal stage. Only a few creatures attended tonight and the gentle atmosphere was sweet enough to lull a baby to sleep. The glow was dark, warm, and when mixed with the buzz of his drink Hefty fell completely relaxed. No one bothered them and no one spoke louder than a whisper, keeping the pleasant ambiance intact. 

Occasionally, Hefty glanced at the troll to check his mood. The lines in Branch’s face had eased and he stared into the racks of alcohol across the way, looking completely defeated and lifeless. Six empties surrounded the troll tonight and he hadn’t asked for another in about a half hour. Taking mental notes, the Smurf idly swirled the ounce of leftover brew in his own bottle. There wasn’t going to be an opening tonight, looks like. After sitting for some hours, Hefty’s lower back had a killer ache and he worried about the coming sunrise. He’d have to try again some other time; that is, if Branch showed up again. 

Just as Hefty was mentally preparing to get up and leave, he heard Branch set his last bottle down and clear his throat. He didn’t dare look over at the troll but his ears strained in waiting.

“Hey,” Branch said quietly.

The simple call flipped over Hefty’s stomach and he tried not to get excited over it. Swallowing down his nerves, the Smurf responded quietly, “Yeah?” He peeked over and saw that the guy looked even more deflated than a minute ago.

“I’m… sorry,” he said, even more quietly. “I have problems. I shouldn’t take them out on you. You’re not really doing anything wrong… I guess.”

The troll’s mood shifted considerably. Hefty would have to go about this very carefully. He felt that a wrong move, wrong word, would ruin any potential conversation with Branch. How many rare opportunities would he get? The Smurf was more than willing to help resolve whatever was bothering Branch… because he knew about pain. He knew about intolerance and wanting to run away from the world. Wearing his heart on his sleeve was a blessing and a curse and they probably had more in common than Branch could see. Being friends could help them both, or so Hefty hoped. 

“Do you… want to talk about it?” Hefty waited, casting his gaze away to give the troll more space. Silence followed after. Seconds ticked and the Smurf could feel the pressure building up between them. He rubbed a hand under his hat nervously. Maybe he’d said the wrong thing after all... Then, when he was going to follow up with an easier question, Hefty heard a sweet muttering flow under the troll’s breath. 

_ “I couldn't read the signs, I was caught up in lies…”  _ Branch sang faintly. His voice was soft, yet reverberated over the air. It was spoken that Hefty was sure he was the only one who could hear it. Taking another shaky breath, Branch sang again, “ _ Wonderin' in my mind, nothin' is left inside. The sky just split open wide… extinguished the star inside; I’m broken. _ ”

The music the troll made was nothing like Hefty was used to. As much as he enjoyed listening to the unique song chords, there was enough pain lyrically etched to put a Smurf out of commission. There had to be something; anything! Even if they were complete strangers; surely there was something he could do. He never knew how words could sound sweet and tender but also cut mercilessly like a blade. 

“What can I do?” Hefty asked gently, desperately. He wanted to reach across their space and grasp the troll by the hand. 

Shutting down his song, Branch’s lip twisted and went back to his grumpy, prickly nature. “Nothing anyone can do,” he replied gruffly. “Nothing will change Poppy and I can’t force her.”

“Who’s Poppy?”

Silence followed thereafter and suddenly, Hefty realized he’d asked one too many. He tried to backtrack his questioning but the troll was already up and out of his stool, briskly turning his back to the Smurf at the bar. Even while intoxicated, Branch was able to find his feet and stumble around vacant tables, making way to the exit. Hefty watched him and ached. A lump in his throat kept the Smurf from calling out to him. He shouldn’t chase him. It wasn’t any of his business and poking around wasn’t going to make Branch feel better. Patience was not one of Hefty’s virtues but he had to try.

The troll turned around and yelled harshly across the cavern, “I’m not coming back! EVER!” With that, he yanked open the wooden door and slammed it in his wake, releasing a cascade of dust from the ceiling above. Hefty was left without any explanation or hope that he’d see the troll again and all the promising hopes diminished as quickly as they came. 

“Dang it,” Hefty whined, slumping back and throwing his arms behind his head. “Man, I screwed that one.”

“You sure did,” giggled the bartender as she fluttered over the counter to clean up Branch’s mess. Tiptoeing around the bottles, the faerie hummed and went about her work merrily, magically waving the clutter away behind to hidden sinks. After the space was tidy and wiped clean, she dust clapped her hands and placed them on her hips. “It’s too bad though, I really thought the little guy was about to finally spill the beans.”

Hefty rested his cheek into his palm and shlumped, watching the fae girl. “You know what’s up with him, I’m guessing?”

“It took me awhile to piece it together,” she confessed, walking over to Hefty and taking a seat on the counter. She flicked her hair back over her shoulder and folded her legs in a very un-ladylike fashion, shlumping with the Smurf in return. “I don’t think it’s my place to say, though.”

“I only want to help him,” he sighed. “I don’t know why. I’ve just got this feeling… like I really, really need to help this guy. You know?”

“I get it,” the faerie laughed. “It’s not often we get fellas like yourself poking at our dear Branch. It’s nice to see someone cares, even when he’s mean ‘n fickle under the bottle. Any-who…. I’ll tell you what I know for sure; just between us, yeah?”

Nodding quickly, Hefty leaned in to the faerie with open ears and bated breath. “I won’t spread a word.”

Her wings flicked in apprehension and even though her voice was soft and hushed already, the faerie opted to whisper anyway which made it almost impossible to hear her. “This ‘Poppy’... he talks about her from time to time, usually when he’s at his lowest. I figure he’s drowning himself over a broken heart. She’s gotta be some unrequited love interest! The poor boy. It’s been like this for a year without rest. She must not give him the time of day and he's too stubborn to let her go!”

“That’s awful, and yet comically ironic,” Hefty grimaced. “I came here for the same reason… but I’ve got a handle on things, for the most part. Branch doesn’t seem too keen at keeping his mind off his heart.”

“I daresay his head doesn’t exist,” the faerie quipped. “Thinkin’ with his heart twenty-four-seven is going to end up making him sick; or worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little blurb from Branch's song  
> HONORS - Broken  
> https://youtu.be/p6x8SaWmMX0


End file.
